Dark Moon Rising (The Prophecies of Zanufey)

by A. Evermore

  As Asaph stared in shock and indecision his joy turned to horror for the solidness of her form in his dream was no more. Like everything in this Shadow World she appeared ephemeral, a ghost, and he could vaguely see right through her to the rocks beyond, so slight and pale was she.

  ‘Blessed Mother, she has become a wraith!’ He looked harder and with his keen Dragon sight could just about make out the soft glow of her aura. It made him wonder for unlike most it was not pastel and light but dark though somehow filled with light, a chromosphere of shimmering indigo blue. He relaxed a little for no ghost could have an aura; she was alive.

  Her frail, sorrowful beauty captivated him. She was like a light fading away, consumed by the sorrow of the Shadowlands and he wanted nothing more than to hold her, to comfort her, to take away the pain she felt.

  He felt as if his whole life had been leading up to this moment and he feared she would disappear if he moved, nothing more than a dream as she had always been. Now she was here before him he was struck dumb and his limbs frozen. He chewed his lips, racked by indecision. Should he approach her now? A strange man accosting her on this deserted stormy shore, she would surely run in fear. Would she even see him? She didn’t in his dreams, but this was different, he was truly here and this was not a dream.

  What if I fail? What if she will not follow me? He thought. “Silence the questions and the answers will come,” Coronos’s once wise words echoed in his mind and helped to still his racing thoughts.

  He looked down at the raven as it sat calmly watching the girl, uncaring of the howling wind for it too seemed enthralled by her. Sensing Asaph watching it, it turned and looked up at him. A shimmer of silver-blue momentarily flashed around it, taking Asaph by surprise for he did not know ravens had their own magic. He found himself being drawn into those black, unblinking, eyes. Images formed in his mind, coming to him from the raven, the scenes flickered through him like the sunlight through leaves, and then slowed as one came to the fore.

  He looked up a grass-covered hill to a figure clad in leather armour, a darker silhouette against a starlit night sky. She sat astride a giant black horse that pawed the ground and tossed its head. She removed her helmet and he saw it was crowned in black raven feathers. Her long hair fell about her shoulders and slowly she raised her arms.

  In each hand she held a blade: in her left a short sword with a double-edged wavy blade and a blood-red tinge to it, its tip pointing skyward. In her right, a heavy long sword with a blood-red pommel that she struggled to hold, its tip pointed down towards the earth.

  Asaph gasped as he looked upon the long sword, ancient memories of that sword stirred in The Recollection. He knew that sword intimately, how it would feel if he held it, its weight, its balance; the sword called to him and he wanted to go to it. He looked up at the pale-faced rider and knew it was her but changed, different from the frail girl in his dreams, for this woman was commanding and fearsome and though he feared this strange warrior woman he found he loved her deeply.

  The darkness of night swiftly turned pale pink and then orange with the rising sun. The massive red ball on the horizon seemed larger and fiercer than any sunrise he could remember and it set the world on fire. The great sword shone crimson and a raven wheeled low above her, its feathers gleaming dark red like blood, like the pommel of the sword, in the dawn light.

  In the distance a flash of white light reflecting off metal caught his eye and he stared, wide-eyed, at the opposite hill where legions of black armour-clad Maphraxies swarmed towards them, their heavy, Dark Dwarven-forged, armour clanged loudly like the tolling of the bells of death and their war drums shook the ground.

  Asaph shuddered with hatred at the sight of the Immortals. He glanced fearfully up at Issa but her expression was emotionless, hard, and for a moment he feared her more than the advancing Maphraxies.

  The vision ended abruptly and he swayed for a moment, breathing heavily as he fought to understand the vision given to him by the raven. Though the vision had lasted only seconds, every rich detail of it was indelibly imprinted in his mind. Of what do the images tell? Is this what might be? A possible future or the truth of it? His breath slowed and he looked back at the lonely, frail figure staring out to sea.

  ‘Is that what she will be? She will lead us against them?’ he glanced down at the raven; it cocked its head to look at him but gave no answer and instead launched into the air and flew towards her.

  ‘No wait!’ Asaph rasped and then fell back into the darkness of the forest, peering out from behind a tree trunk, too afraid to follow.

  Large black wings fluttered in Issa’s peripheral vision and the raven landed with a few hops before her, making her jump. She saw herself reflected in his eyes as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. She remembered a raven from a long time ago but the memory was so hazy. She shook her head giving up trying to remember. The raven was starkly outlined in the light, more real than the ground on which he stood, she could clearly see the fine details of his feathers, his gnarly claws, his heavy long beak, a beak that held a silver ring.

  The raven tried to caw in response, but it came out a gurgle because of the ring in his beak, and she would have laughed were it not for the weariness in her heart. The raven dropped the ring and snapped his beak, stretching his muscles as if he had been carrying it for a long time. He shook and ruffled his feathers, suddenly looking twice his size and very fat, before laying them sleek and flat again. When she made no move but stood there staring at the ring, the raven took a step towards her and looked up expectantly.

  Spots of rain began to fall and shards of lightning lit up the sky. In the glare the ring flashed an orange-yellow fire and then was silver again. Slowly Issa reached for the ring. It was shaped into a small flame like that of a lit candle. The rain fell harder then, a torrent of stinging needles, but she did not notice. The fog in her mind was beginning to clear, like clouds finally breaking apart after a long storm

  Issa looked at the raven, ‘All is changing,’ she whispered. ‘I was someone… once, before the sorrow.’ The raven ruffled his feathers again. ‘If I take the ring all will change?’ The raven gave a guttural croak of agreement.

  It is just a choice and nothing more, she reasoned simply. Issa slipped the ring onto her finger. A terrible wailing sound came from the depths of the ocean. The beast’s luring power slipped and the madness within her mind cleared a little. The raven cawed loudly, as if urging her on, and launched into the air as the ground shook violently beneath them. She staggered for balance.

  Her eyes locked on to an image forming on the blazing surface of the flame-shaped ring. There was an enchantment upon the ring, she could feel it, and somehow it had come to life. ‘A tiny Dragon,’ she breathed staring into the ring, entranced by the majestic golden head, long tail, and powerful wings stretching high above it. She gasped as it moved and turned to stare back at her with eyes that shone like huge glowing sapphires.

  Asaph watched as the raven landed next to her and dropped the silver ring at her feet. He held his breath as she bent to pick it up. A memory from The Recollection flashed in his mind.

  Many, many, Dragons and Dragon Lords circled in the skies above, below them stood two people facing each other; his mother and father in some ceremony. His father took his mother’s hand and kissed it and placed upon her finger the flame ring.

  But then the memory snapped shut and his heart lurched as a great white mass crested the dark ocean surface. His breath caught in his throat and a hundred voices, all singing and chattering, filled his ears. He closed his eyes against the madness, trying to shield against the corrupt, twisted power that assaulted him.

  I know you! Asaph’s thoughts were screams in his mind. You are the one in my dreams, the one Coronos told me of, the one Yisufalni warned me about. The Ancient’s words rang out clearly, “Find the Raven Queen, Asaph... Keteth draws close, you must reach her before he does”. And then Keteth was gone as quickly as he had appeared, and the madness in h
is mind receded, though sweat still beaded his forehead and a sickness settled in his stomach.

  Why does Keteth want her? He wondered, was he driven by Baelthrom or his own twisted evil? In truth it mattered not, he reasoned, it only mattered that he reach her first. It was the White Beast that drew her here, lured her like a fish to a baited hook, and his hold upon her was strong. I should have come sooner, he thought. His eyes caught tall wispy shapes, as of clumps of mist, moving in the trees and he felt the blood drain from his face. Wraiths, how long will it be before they sense my living presence?

  Asaph stepped towards her and stopped, his breath caught in his throat as she slipped the ring onto her forefinger. Deafening thunder cracked overhead as lightning tore down from the sky, striking the ocean, casting the world ablaze in white light. The ground shuddered and shook underfoot and the storm brought swiftly the darkness of night.

  Then she was running, the raven at her side, and Asaph knew now was his chance, for this was where the dream always began. He tried to follow but his legs would not budge; they were rooted to the spot, gripped by some unseen force. He looked down at them but the binding was of magic and he could not see it. He strained to move his legs again, using his arms to try to force them forwards but it was useless. He glanced back at the sea where Keteth raged.

  ‘You shall not have her!’ He screamed into the wind, but the only answer was a rattling thunder and within it a low laughter rolled. ‘Your power is weak here Keteth, you have no hold over her, or me!’ he snarled between clenched teeth.

  With all his strength he fought against whatever gripped his legs and then, slowly, so painfully slowly, he broke free and staggered forwards. He glared at the sea, his hand ready at his sword for what little it might do, daring Keteth to face him but the sea was empty now, and the White Beast was on the move. Keteth may be limited to the seas but whatever else hunted her was not, he thought. Asaph turned from the sea and tore after her.

  Without the raven to guide him he was soon lost in the growing darkness, despite his Dragon sight. The ghostly trees loomed above him once more and he felt keen malice in their stance, in their twisted branches, they knew a living thing was amongst them where only the dead should be.

  Cold sweat made his back, face and hands clammy. Twice he drew his sword and whirled around as some unseen thing brushed past his shoulder, but both times there was nothing there. Every way he turned looked the same and he could not find the path she had taken.

  It was pitch black when he heard wings flap overhead and the familiar caw of the raven. Asaph sighed in relief, for the first time very glad to see the irksome bird.

  ‘Thanks for coming,’ he said sourly to the dim silhouette. The bird cocked its head and looked at him innocently. His shoulders slumped. ‘Pray let us go, I too must leave this place before insanity, or worse, claims me.’ The raven dutifully took off and he followed it closely, his eyes never leaving the bird for fear of becoming lost again.

  Together they moved swiftly through the forest and it seemed to him that those ghostly trees pressed down upon them, whispering of all things lost, and every now and then a white figure moved in the distance and was gone. Each time he glimpsed a wraith his heart lurched but he did not stop. The darkness between the trees was like a living thing of emptiness that sucked away the light as it sucked away any reason to live.

  As they ran deeper into the forest the darkness grew, crowding around him like a thick black fog, trying to drown him into oblivion. Already he was having trouble remembering how he had gotten here and where he had come from. Coronos’s much loved face was but a blur in his mind, and all about him he could feel the dark meaninglessness of existence creeping closer.

  He swallowed and forced out a loud breath as he fought against the crushing hopelessness that was the essence of the Land of Shadows, but it was like trying to drag oneself up from the abyss. What did I expect in the Shadowlands? This place is not for the living. I must be gone from here before it consumes me.

  They burst out of the trees and into sheets of rain. She was up ahead; her white legs long and luminous in the flashes of lightning, the raven’s slick black back gleaming between them. He caught up with her, his hand moved in slow motion as he reached forward and grasped her pale arm. It was a shock to his body to find solid flesh for his hand did not pass through her as he had feared; she was not a ghost and this was not a dream. He gripped her tightly; thunder cracked above them, and in the distance Keteth roared.

  ‘You cannot run forever!’ he cried, as she whirled to face him, wide eyes raw with terror. He could smell her fear and felt it as his own. Her terror turned into a frown of recognition.

  ‘Help me,’ she gasped.

  ‘I am here. I have always been here. Come with me,’ he said softly. A lifetime of longing threatened to overwhelm him and he almost bent to kiss her.

  ‘Who are you?’ she gasped, ‘are you the one that hunts me?’

  ‘I am Asaph, and I have never hunted you. Look into your heart, you will know it is true,’ he whispered, pulling her closer. She did not resist. For a moment there was calm but then she pulled back to look at him, the emptiness of the Shadowlands pressing upon them.

  ‘There is nothing here but desolation,’ she shook her head and he felt the despair, momentarily driven away by her presence, closing in again.

  ‘All my life you have walked my dreams. A thousand times I have watched you stare out to sea laying bare your soul, grieving for those lost; a thousand terrible times I have watched you fall to your doom and try as I might I could never reach you in time. I have felt your pain as if it were my own. I too have lost those most precious to me; I know your anger, your grief, your helplessness,’ his voice trembled for all the years he had wanted to say those words.

  She frowned and whispered partly to herself, ‘how can you know such things?’ She shook her head and he felt her weaken in his grasp. She looked up at him with eyes the colour of a turquoise sea, filling with tears he thought he would drown in.

  ‘I am trapped here. There is no way out. I cannot fight the White Beast and that other...’ she trailed off in a whisper, as if afraid to speak of it. ‘I can feel it in the distance beyond the seas, beyond the forests, moving closer, a terrible…’ she stumbled over the words, ‘power that never sleeps… always hunting, always searching.’ The raven cawed impatiently. ‘How do you know all of this about me? How have you found me?’ she said suddenly pulling away, distrust clouding her eyes.

  Asaph took her hand and lifted it up, ‘The ring...’ he said.

  Lightning flashed above and in the light the Dragon formed again on its surface, its eyes were shining sapphires. She glanced up, as if seeing him for the first time. He felt the Dragon stir within and saw her eyes widen as she trembled. He looked away as shocked as she, knowing that somehow she had seen the Dragon awaken in his eyes. He hated himself for causing her to fear him.

  ‘You do know me,’ he whispered.

  ‘The raven dropped it...’ she said by way of reply.

  ‘The raven took it from me and brought it here to you so that I might find you,’ Asaph said, his voice was hoarse. ‘It was my mother’s ring... she died a long time ago. The raven led me here, it is somehow linked to you, it protects you. I have come to help free you from this prison, should you wish, before those that hunt you find you. If you stay here you will fall into oblivion and so too the rest of us.’ He felt that dark force surge closer, as if suddenly detecting their location. The ground trembled and they held each other for balance.

  ‘We have to get away from here,’ he rasped against the howling wind. The raven cawed again, this time louder, for it too was keen to be gone. The force would be upon them soon; Asaph could see it now, a thick black fog swiftly covering the forest and ocean like a blanket.

  ‘Who am I?’ she asked, her voice low and trembling, her eyes darting from him to the black fog and back again, ‘I had a name once, only I cannot remember.’

  Asaph was spellbou
nd, ‘The Shadowlands have made you forget who you are, you are drifting into shadow and are hunted by oblivion. I cannot help you if you do not wish it. Do you wish to leave this place?’ he asked quietly. She looked down at the raven and frowned.

  ‘There is something I should remember, the stones, the doorway…’ she whispered to herself, he could barely make out the words, ‘a figure wearing the stars...’

  ‘Come with me, away from here, return to the living world. You are needed there more than you can imagine and... More than that, I need you,’ Asaph pleaded.

  In the distance Keteth wailed, a sound that tore at the ears. The darkness was above them now. Asaph glanced up and wished he hadn’t. The black clouds swirled and in their centre a hole was opening, a vortex ready to suck them whole into the Dark Rift itself. She closed her eyes, put her hand to her head and swayed; she seemed to be fighting a terrible internal battle and would have fallen had he not been supporting her. His own head throbbed and he felt sick.

  ‘I don’t want to be here in this world of shadows anymore,’ she whispered. Asaph smiled at her and saw a glimmer in her eyes; he prayed it was of hope. A faint smile warmed her pale face. The clouds and black vortex sunk towards them.

  ‘This is not who I am, I have forgotten who I am. I refuse to be imprisoned by this place any longer.’ She cried out the last and then gasped as the ground shuddered in response. Asaph grasped her close as the cliff rocked violently. Cracks whipped and snaked under their feet and the ground began to crumble and fall away into the sea below.

  ‘Raven, guide us to the boatman!’ Asaph cried, but it needed no telling, and they fled together, the raven in front as he all but dragged Issa along behind him.

  A soft light grew ahead and Asaph felt tears of relief run down his face. The magic of Coronos’s Orb of Air reached for them, surrounded them, and hid them from the clutches of the dark vortex. The world grew hazy in the orb’s grey-white light and it seemed they no longer ran upon hard ground but upon clouds. There came a shuddering lurch forwards and he could no longer feel the oppressive energy of the dark force chasing them.